


Cracked Mirror

by GeneralLoki



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Angst, Gen, I guess????, No Ship, One Shot, Self-Harm, character exploration, empty mask, kokuu no kamen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralLoki/pseuds/GeneralLoki
Summary: The Brave Vesperia crew gets pulled into helping hunt down an unusual monster spotted outside Dahngrest. Reports alone are enough to draw Raven back into some unpleasant memories-ones he would rather not have out in the air. As they set out to search he finds himself unable to hold back and opens up to Yuri about his experience and the anxiety weighing on him. Their moment doesn't last as the beast attacks in the dark and leaves Raven stranded away from the rest of the group in a far worse state.





	Cracked Mirror

Rain spattered irregularly against the canvas of the tent—everything already damp, rendering it almost pointless. What was the point of even setting up camp in this shape? He honestly wasn't sure he could recall. Everything felt fuzzy and heavy. A mist of moisture hovered over his skin, a little warm from the excessive heat of his body. Had he really gotten that feverish? It seemed so cold. 

It scared the hell out of him.

A corpse doesn't get a fever, a voice echoed at him from somewhere in the haze. It felt like white scrawl over a pitch surface—a message on the back of his eyes, across his skull. 

His eyelids tore open and his gaze found the upper crease of the tent, either side of it sagging in the weight of the rain. Supplies crowded his right and at his left was a small space—just enough for one person to sit aside him. It looked like someone had been at some point. At the moment the spot was unoccupied, but he didn't start to guess who might have filled it. Figuring out where the hell he was and what happened probably was more important. 

He raised his right hand a little, the limb feeling both hollow and heavy at the same time. A bandage was tightly wrapped around his forearm near his elbow, but he could suss out plenty enough pain in relation to whatever wound had been there. He imagined someone had patched him up. 

A memory surfaced in the middle of his check, one that called him by a different name and yanked him back ages. He felt it in flashes of sensation across his skin at first, nails digging into flesh at his chest, freezing cold. That hollow sensation. Unparalleled horror—the manifestation of that monster's eyes still boring into his psyche deeper than its attack gored through his chest. Both the wake up and the attack happened together in his memory—maybe because he had nothing in between—he'd been dead from A to B. 

Nothing would clear, his own voice choked and muffled until the sound of the door slamming open, Alexei rushing through to stop him, to say something. What was it? 

The Raven physically in the tent, remembering the end of Damuron couldn't keep it straight. The outline of the commandant was so crisp on the edge of his mind, but what had he said? 

Somewhere in the mess he recalled Alexei's hands so firmly grasped to the switch. Couldn't he have been more tense? Couldn't he have been terrified? When exactly did that all numb out?

Raven pushed himself up with his left arm, hunched over and tried to put himself back in the tent. His skin felt clammy, exposed to the air now that he'd risen from the blankets some. That was preferred to getting lost in his own head again. He'd tried so hard to cast everything behind him too—why now? 

Two slow breaths: In and out, in and out. 

There were more important things to work out first. Avoiding everything else tended to work better for him. But the looseness of his thoughts made him wonder if he hit his head. It was possible. It didn't feel like any memories were really missing—he just had to focus more. Striping everything back so far did him no favors. With a couple more slow breaths he had it. 

 

* * * 

 

It was a little bit by chance. They'd caught word of something awful in the woods—lingering too close to Dahngrest's barrier at times, but it was terrible enough to scare off even some of the toughest of the guild members—especially considering some of them had been lost trying to locate and kill this thing. Ten thousand other things were going on, but somehow the Brave Vesperia crew had been initiated into taking this on—no one seemed willing to just leave things as they were. Especially after they'd heard whispers in town about what the hell this thing could be. Whatever kind of beast it was, it tended to move at night, its body hidden among trees—impossible to tell exactly how big it was—save for a pair of huge bright eyes set into a deep dark body. The description alone had given Raven a deep chill. It reminded him of something else—something he worked hard to try and forget. 

He wasn't going to tell these kids no however. They had their minds set on it, so a lot of good it would've done anyway. He complained, but went along with it. Of course the moment he did the rain only seemed to get worse than usual in the forest. They'd been able to find some traces of something bigger passing through, but only a few snapped branches and nothing really solid on the ground. It was awful work and night was fast approaching. Getting caught in the dark with that thing was not what anyone wanted and an argument split the team on what they should do. If it only came out at night, what choice was there? 

Darkness fell over a makeshift camp, a single fire kept cautiously over some cover they were able to put together, most of the group huddled there, or under thick trees to try and keep dry. Raven displayed the best of himself, trying to joke and bring the group up, but the wet and cold kept them fairly suppressed. He couldn't blame any of them. 

They picked turns to take resting uneasily in the tents. Raven doubted anyone slept much. He took watch himself—unable to really settle his nerves. After all these years he'd have thought nothing would bother him quite this much. Then again, he couldn't imagine himself throwing his life away anymore either. The thought left him more uneasy. He had the distinct feeling that Yuri sensed his unease. The two sat adjacent of each other at the low fire, both still wet from a patrol of the perimeter. 

The dark look in Yuri's eyes, shielded only partially by damp hair, was unbearable. 

They couldn't say nothing forever. It was a matter of who tested the waters first. 

“Something's bothering you, right?” Yuri said, only half asking it. He'd already worked it out—the question was more of a formality. 

Raven let out a small sigh. “It ain't anything you gotta worry about. Can't an old man have a couple thoughts in his head?” he said with an attempt to joke about it. Maybe it wasn't clear enough he was joking because Yuri answered anyway. 

“If it stops you from fighting whenever this thing springs on us, maybe you don't need to have it in your head.” 

For a second Raven took a offense, but found that feeling fizzling out pretty quickly. He had a point. If this thing was as bad as the guild members said, it would probably tear them apart if they took it lightly. A piece of Raven's thoughts latched onto the monster of his memories—each second it getting closer and larger in his mind's eye. He wrenched his wandering away, the tug a desperate one just to stay in the conversation. 

“What people were sayin' reminded me of a much worse monster. There's no way this thing is that bad, but I keep getting' distracted,” he admitted, feeling naked for it. 

“How are you sure it's not the same?”

“It was bigger. Nastier. It would've already leveled Dahngrest so I'm pretty sure about this one.” 

Yuri's eyes widened, disbelieving it for a moment. They'd journeyed this long and Yuri must have seen nearly everything at this point—how was he surprised anymore? Raven mulled that over, but he didn't for long as Yuri voiced his thoughts. 

“You fought something like that? That kinda thing exists?” 

A breath. Words could be yanked out next. 

“Yeah, you don't want anything to do with it. Trust me. It was huge, so dark it blended in with the night sky and its eyes...” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish. All he could think about was that gaze turned on him. 

He felt sick.

Yuri's expression shifted and his hands holding opposite arms tightened. The sickness in the pit of Raven's stomach must have translated over his face as Yuri seemed more tense too. Being this exposed put him at risk, Raven knew it, but he knew he could trust Yuri. No matter what, Yuri was steady and yet he ached to say nothing instead. To just keep carrying this awful thing in that empty chasm and the back of his mind until the day his body finally gave out. Whenever it would. 

Yuri changed his posture, resting one elbow to one knee, his head in his hand. He looked a bit calmer this way. Something about it put Raven more at peace. Not calm, but a hair better than before. 

“Sounds like this is different. But either way, we'll be careful and take care of it.” 

“If it is something like that can we agree to retreat?” 

Yuri looked surprised all over again. Raven didn't repeat himself however, letting Yuri figure it out if he could. It seemed he understood the words, but maybe not the “why.” It wasn't often Raven let himself get this somber. Even after everything, even after leaving Schwann behind, he still tried to be as “Raven” as possible. This was something else. 

The thought pained Raven where his heart once was. 

Yuri answered a little louder, firmer, surer. “If it's something we can't beat, we'll pull back.” 

Silence filled the space between them momentarily—only the sounds of rain falling more softly now accompanied them. Eventually Raven found his voice and spoke a low “thanks” Yuri's way. 

There was only another short moment of quiet before Yuri pushed it.

“What did that thing do? Can you tell me that much?” 

Raven hesitated. It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he didn't want to. He knit his fingers together, his shoulders tense as his gaze fixed on the fire between them. “It did whatever the hell it wanted. It could blast craters into the earth just as easily as it could target one person precisely. Hell, I couldn't even start with a strategy for something like this. It...” He stalled himself out again, the picture clear in his mind all over again. He thought about last he saw of Casey's figure and burned inside. 

Yuri kept quiet a little longer, his eyes searching Raven’s face, but perhaps not finding what he wanted. He glanced away, his own thoughts likely somewhere else. “We'll be on guard,” he offered shortly. Maybe he sensed it was best not to pry any deeper.

The open wound in Raven's ghost of a heart ached, a heavy pain situated level with his chest and burning on top of the chill of fear and rain over his skin. It had been ten years, but ignoring it for that long left it just as raw, like he'd irritated it more than let it heal at all. A twinge dug in beneath the skin and Raven felt his hand reach for the blastia lodged in his chest. So clearly he could recall the pain of the gaping hole the space had once been. A part of him wanted to confirm nothing was back there, that the memory was as real as it felt, but wrenching the blastia out might hurt just as much. He wasn't willing to risk that experience a second time. 

Shivers occupied Raven's skin as he waited and kept watch on the area around the small camp. Yuri did much of the same, his thoughts likely on what the old man had said. He remained steady and as sure as ever, but Raven knew he'd taken the words to heart. He wouldn't put them at that much risk. Or rather, Raven knew he himself wouldn't let Yuri do it. 

They kept talking to a minimum for the couple hours of their shift. When the hours passed and it came time to switch out for two others something caught Yuri's attention. Raven perked up as well and the pair took their stretching and preparing outside of the small cover and fire. A softer rain misted over their skin and clothes—not as terrible and heavy as it had been earlier, but still enough to keep them chilled. 

The pair followed what Yuri had heard, not running out but certainly moving fast to keep up. They soon stalled when something passed through one tree overhead to another. Raven notched an arrow to his bow and fired into the motion as Yuri drew his blade. Both caught the sound of the arrow making contact with something much fleshier sounding than a tree. 

A sinking feel hung at the ends of Raven's limbs, his fingers feeling clumsy. 

Through the leaves and rain he spotted it: A pair of eyes like two pale suns stared him down, each swirling with a kind of alien intensity deep within. 

His whole body tensed, his blood rushing through his veins. 

A corner of his mind fixed Casey's figure in front of his eyes again, her bow ready like his now was. As figures they mirrored each other. He felt words on his lips, but all he could do was fire on this beast. In the funhouse mirror he looked out into the creature grew bigger and bigger—his vision no mind for the strange tendril-like limbs this beast now had—no care for the thinner, smaller figure now clear between branches. Raven couldn't see it anymore. 

Yuri shouted something but received no response. Regardless he'd gotten himself deeper into combat, slicing through swinging tendrils to protect the both of them as arrows flew near and around the eyes of the monster—hitting and merely being sucked into the mass. It wasn't making a difference and the both of them realized it very shortly. Yuri knew the sounds of battle and his shouts would have their team joining them to help soon, but a real danger still hung over the two of them until then. This was no condition he could call a retreat in. 

Raven looked Yuri's way long enough to see him struggling to keep up with the pace of this monster. In just a flash he was flooded with thoughts of Yuri, the way people rallied around him, the way the knights did Casey. That sick feeling made him choke. He couldn't risk this again. 

A tendril whipped past both of their coverage, winding right Raven's way. Reflexively he tried to block his face with his arm and weapon. The pair kept the limb from driving directly into his core, instead taking a slice across his forearm. Besides just striking, the tendrils were sharp and blade-like at the ends. This close shave with death made his vision spin. Yuri was still just trying to fight off the barrage. What else could he do? His left arm hung at his side, blood running down his skin still wet from the ongoing rain.

His right hand grasped at the damp cloth over the blastia lodged in his chest. His fingers struggled to keep holding onto the claws of the blastia as power built up within it. A shaking, empty feeling carved out his hands, one managing to grasp his weapon despite it, his heels dug into the muddy earth. An abnormal light swarmed out from his chest making him an immediate target for the monster amorphous in the trees. It lashed out, but it's tendrils were met with a burst of power from the earth, the light spreading out and then up into its hiding place among the trees. The burst called from Raven's blastia gored holes into the beast, globs of darkness falling into the slicked earth—a monstrous cry of pain just before the sickly splats hit the ground. 

Enough of the beast remained in the branches to stay up despite what it lost, but Raven was not faring much better. Once the light around him faded his chest remained glowing, heaving with hard breaths for air. This wasn't the first time he'd done this. It didn't change the way his limbs felt weak and brittle. He had to stay up and conscious—more than anything he knew he needed to hold out. 

Yuri slid in front of him—a blur in his vision as the younger man cut down a desperate tendril lashing out. From there he pushed forward and up toward the trees. As he did magic poured in with a rush of muddy footfalls in a chorus as his back. Maybe it would be fine. It had to be. 

He felt his knees go out, a rush of air, but no memory of hitting the floor. 

 

* * *

 

Raven regathered himself in the tent, his thoughts and memories of events pretty clear again. He let out a long sigh. They must have lived if they got him to this tent. Although without anyone around, it was hard to guess what other damage had been done. 

He felt around and hunted down his shirt, starting to pull it back on carefully around his wound and with a mind for how unsteady his fingers felt holding anything. He really couldn't afford doing this too many times, could he? 

Rita had insisted on looking at the blastia the second they had a moment to do so after they all knew about it, but even she seemed at loss. There was no removing it—of course—but everything else about it was strange. It wasn't pulling in aer at least. What it did when he pushed it this hard however? That he couldn't say and he knew would probably earn him a good verbal thrashing from Rita and the rest. Whatever the blastia could take, his body probably couldn't. Or maybe it was the other way around. It was all kind of one and the same now either way. 

He got his shirt buttoned up without too much strife and nearly got to sitting up a bit more to find the rest of his belongings when the flap at the front of the tent shifted. Raven froze as he saw a set of fingers curl in from outside, that hand eventually brushing the opening of the tent aside so they could lower themselves within. At first Raven couldn't focus on them too clearly. Someone younger. Dark hair a mess on their head. He had a tired grin when he sat himself down at Raven's side, pressingly close. 

The blue of the uniform flooded his vision and after a harder blink, everything became more clear. In the way that he could see it—none of it made any sense. He must have hit his head. 

A long lost reflection gave Raven an almost apologetic smile, like something held close to his heart for an age. It was an expression Raven knew intimately, in the way his face used to remember the sensation in his face for such a look—before it became even more jaded and tired. His company seemed exhausted, paler even. The guest turned one hand up, a gesture as he started to talk—his speech a reflection of talk in a town that no longer existed. 

“It's been awhile,” Damuron said. He shifted to sit a little more comfortably, the young man clearly real enough to unsettle things around him. “It looks like you overdid it.” 

Raven opened his mouth but no words came out. 

Was this Hell? 

Damuron tilted his head when he didn't get an answer. 

“You could at least say something.” 

Raven parted his lips, trying to speak once more. “Yeah, I...It was too much, wasn't it? It's over just like that, huh?” 

Damuron shrugged one shoulder. “You'd give up and say you're dead after lasting this long?” 

“I don't know. Am I? Not necessarily in a rush to the grave but you're here. Where else would I be?” 

The younger man looked himself over once before turning that gaze on Raven to do the same. “We both seem to be here. And since we are, wouldn't that mean the opposite's more likely?” 

Somehow, it made some lick of logical sense, but maybe it took already being in this mess to have that sort of mindframe. Raven didn't rush to agree with him; however, there was too much else to work out. The younger mirror of himself was someone he'd not thought of in a long time. That he had to frame it in such a way perhaps was a part of that. Raven was never Damuron, he was never even close to him. At least, not until that moment, where Raven had no choice but to consider them both at the same time. 

“If you're here then...what do you want from me? I don't got anything to give,” Raven eventually spoke, unwilling to really argue that issue anymore. 

“You said goodbye to Schwann, didn't you? Am I out too?” 

Raven tiredly turned his eyes on Damuron, until then mostly too unnerved to look at him very properly. His expression was terribly hard to read, but somehow he seemed just as tired. Exhausted and strung out as Raven was himself. 

“It’s not exactly like that anymore. It’s complicated. At this point if I can just be Raven, live that way, I’d be alright,” he attempted to explain, not really knowing his own answer well. 

“Will you forget everything else?” 

“Definitely not on purpose.”

It has felt like long enough that maybe he should be given the freedom to forget it all. A relief in that shape would have been welcome in a way. But as things were, no matter how much he called himself an old man, his memory stayed burning and fresh in his head. The accuracy with which the worst of it haunted his body was piercing. Why could he keep remembering the day they all died so clearly? Hadn’t he earned some reprieve? 

If given the option maybe he would forget it on purpose.

Damuron rested a bit more forward, that much closer to Raven now. He spoke lower too. “You’ll have to live to even have the chance to forget all of us.” He shifted back once more, his gaze aside like he was recalling something. “The memory of our unit lives and dies with you. Whenever it’s time to go.”

“I know, I know. I never wanted that in the first place. But I wouldn’t wish this on any of them either,” Raven answered, feeling his shoulders fall. 

“It’s so awful to have lived?”

Raven failed to reply very soon this time. Was that really the issue? Somewhere in the jumble it had gotten all tangled up. Threading through it all felt impossible. All he could do was pull one string at a time and hope he didn’t unravel something beyond what he could handle alone. 

“No, it’s...fine. To have met those kids and all the rest made me do something. Well mostly I didn’t do jack to help them until now so I can’t say I’ve paid my dues or anything. I just… don’t think I wanna lie down and die yet.”

The smile on Damuron’s face stayed just as exhausted and yet retained a little life still. The hand in his lap bunched up the familiar blue uniform, his shoulders a stiff. 

“Yeah, there you go, old man. Keep living.”

“For Casey,” Raven finished for him, knowing his own answer. 

“We were never gonna be anything better. That’s all you can do,” Damuron said, his tone uneven, voice bound to crack with emotion but never quite getting there. 

Raven paused for a moment, feeling heavy again. Looking at Damuron made him almost queasy, so he made a conscious effort not to. It wasn’t exactly a normal conversation; maybe normal conventions were unnecessary. 

“I thought for a minute I could do more. Be better,” Raven found himself muttering. 

Damuron tensed up further, his brow furrowed. “There’s no point. We have to carry this forever. It never gets any lighter. Everyone. All the corpses you keep stepping over. What happens when the new friends you made start to drop first?” 

“They won’t,” Raven answered after a second of hesitation. That second was long enough to seed doubt deep into the bottom of his stomach. He wanted to hurl. 

“They’re good too, aren’t they? Eventually someone will take a blow they don’t stand up from and then…” Damuron didn’t finish right away, instead giving Raven a cold look—all that life from a moment ago lost. “Just like the brigade. Casey. Even Alexei. They stop getting back up after awhile...but never after you.” 

“I never asked to be the one left,” Raven blurted out at him, voice raised and now tense himself. 

“You’ll just have to keep taking them along with you, won’t you? Me too. When you’re dead, so many of them will be lost forever. And you too. Eventually, everyone will forget you too,” Damuron murmured quieter still, but with a shiver in his voice and a tongue as sharp as a knife. 

“Then what the hell does it matter? If that’s it, that’s it! I just don’t wanna outlive all those kids. I don’t care if they forget me,” Raven snapped back him. His head felt like it was spinning already, but so much worse so when he was suddenly up against the ground, his head hitting first and fairly hard. 

The clenching feeling at his throat pulled all of his focus back forward. His eyes strained and soon glimpsed the figure of Damuron, his body half over Raven’s, his arms extended down to the gloved hands now clasped around his neck. Raven struggled with both hands grabbing back at Damuron’s arms but armor and a deathly grip protected him. A wild look possessed Damuron’s gaze even as he clenched his teeth and clearly fought with himself. It only took a moment of their eyes meeting like this for tears to well up in Damuron’s. 

“I don’t want to be forgotten..! I never wanted any of this! If we have to...if it has to be like this…!” Damuron sputtered out, any of his cracking facade of calm shattering to everything that had been stressed to the breaking point. 

At this angle Raven couldn’t avoid himself. He could see the short life of an idiot noble tossed to the military to be rid of—a burden to his family and everyone around him. It was too much for one stupid kid. He never had it in him to be a decent knight. In the end every other knight still protected him down to the very last one. Irresponsibility shifted from habit to the only way he could survive. Follow Alexei without thought. Do whatever the Don needed. Drink out of his mind. Anything to run away even a second longer. 

Raven clawed at Damuron’s hands and sleeves, trying anything to free himself even as his lungs screamed. On a remaining breath he tried to call Damuron’s name. That was enough to make the younger man stall, his fingers relaxing slightly. The tiny motion gave Raven enough room to breathe, even if it wasn’t by very much. He gasped in place, his hands withering loosely at Damuron’s wrists. 

The look on young knight’s face melted down to nothing but horror and despair. His shoulders slumped and slowly his hands loosened the rest of the way, hanging loosely at his sides. He never sat back, instead remaining over Raven, frozen there as he was in time. 

Raven sat up cautiously, one hand held at his own collar as he tried to pull himself back together. A part of him took it all in stride. Like he should have anticipated this much. Pieces of him knew, he understood it in the irrational sort of way things made sense in a dream. Logic had no home in him anymore and it no longer drove where this conversation headed. 

“I’ve been dead-alive all this time. The whole while it was easiest to be Schwann. I took orders from Alexei, led the knights without any frills… Talked to who I was asked to. Killed who I was asked to. Spent all that just as dead as if I’d died on that mountain,” Raven spoke, eventually gaining Damuron’s attention which had calmed some. 

The elder ran one hand through his hair, feeling the weight of those years on the back of his neck as he spoke of them. “Being Raven though...at first was so difficult, but became so easy over time. I wonder if Raven wasn’t always some part of Damuron too. He never deserved all that, did he?” he said, only glancing to the younger of the two once he was done. 

Damuron’s shoulders shook for a second before a few tears fell free and his arm raised to hide behind it. 

“I never could really kill you in the end. Schwann was easy, but stayin’ with the guilds so long gave me something I hadn’t felt in a long while. All those comrades stickin’ it out through the worst of it… the Don trusting a rat like me. It wasn’t the brigade again, but Raven felt a little freer, like he did back in those days. I...we needed that.” 

Raven watched the young knight for a moment longer as his features relaxed bit by slow bit as he spoke. The horror in his eyes faded for the same tired look he’d had before. There was never a point where that exhaustion seemed like it would really stop for good. It haunted his body and clearly his mind, but it could be eased for a time. 

“I’m sorry Raven never exactly turned out to be worth much. A crappy old man, no fine knight or lord at all, but I hope you’ll accept him. Some part of you’s still here. Maybe you could have been a better knight, or really, anything else, but this is the best I got. I can’t live any other way anymore. And it’s too soon to quit.” 

His voice fell lower before he went on. “Something terrible could still happen. It could all hurt as much as the first time. I still don’t wanna give up. Even if I’m alone at the end again. Whatever’s left of all of us are gonna just have to witness the end one more time. When that’s it, we’ll know if it was satisfying or not.” 

“If it isn’t…?”

“I’ll be surprised,” Raven admitted at the prompting. 

Damuron remained in a stunned sort of silence for a long moment. He leaned back into how he’d been sitting before, his expression almost blank the whole time. It reminded him a lot of the way it had felt when he’d awoken for the first time with the blastia in his heart and everything beyond belief. The grief still weighed on his body every day and yet he forgot it all here and there. It wasn’t with the cold sort of force he’d calculated with Schwann, but rather that his own soul ached with the relief of forgiveness. It could all end, eventually. Eventually that haunt would release from his soul entirely the day he passed again, but for now he could chase out the spectre with the light his new companions flashed out over him. 

The Damuron he had tried to kill when he relinquished himself to Alexei while lost in a pit of despair remained at his side and threaded together with Raven more than he’d really realized. Maybe the fresh recognition was enough: the Damuron physically at his side seemed to calm further, his eyes focusing once more on the tent and the things around them. 

“It’s not perfect is it?”

Raven shook his head at this question. “Never will be. Fundamentally, down to the very core, everything is wrong with this. But even as a living-dead, I still have some things left I can do. Things I want. I can have that for a little while, can’t I? It’s alright if it all ends terribly again.” 

“Is that really fine?” 

“Yeah. I have the chance to change things this time. And even if I fail, I think I gotta at least try,” Raven worked out, resting back on one arm. Damuron’s posture said enough about whether he would try anything else. The younger of the two looked drained of that energy--his intensity melting away out of his hands and shoulders. The man himself looked about ready to waste away into the floor. 

“Is that okay with you?” Raven asked after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know. Nothing seems like the right answer anymore. I don’t want to lose anyone else like that... What would she have said if I just gave up everything now?” Damuron answered quietly. His eyes drifted downward and stayed there. 

“She probably would have yelled at you pretty good.” 

“And I’d deserve it.”

Raven found himself smiling a little, but could hardly describe why. “Probably. We might never make up for this many mistakes, but it’s not enough reason to totally quit. Besides, I think some people already forgave us for all that.” 

Damuron looked up, the movement itself almost seemed too heavy for the poor man. “They did…?” 

“At least I already forgave you. And all those kids out there, they let my stupid choices go after one good slapping around. Deserved that too, but it’s behind us. Everything is. I’m pretty ready to go forward for a while instead of hanging around.” 

“What’s forward? Do you know?” the young knight asked.

“Not exactly. It’s not set in stone, but I want to keep helping these kids. Help the guilds. Maybe I can bear a little of what the Don left now. Do somethin’. It’ll be dicey here and there but I’m lookin’ forward to it,” Raven said. As seconds passed he felt himself more at ease—maybe because Damuron too had relaxed his body and his expression. 

“There are somethings I can’t let go,” Damuron said after a moment’s pause. He glanced aside, like he needed that much space to think. 

“I’ll remember what you said. You just remember who you’re asking. But you know...sorry. For messing this up so bad so far,” Raven answered before Damuron could go on. He had enough of a feeling about all this anyway. He’d made himself deathly clear earlier. 

The air felt unsteady between, like a ripple on either exhale. 

Damuron’s voice sounded dry when he broke the silence. “I’ll forgive you this time. Don’t do it again.” 

Raven let himself laugh a little. It was easier to crack through his nerves that way. “Yeah, I heard ya’. I’ll be careful. Learned the hard way and all that.” 

This time when Damuron smiled it was more honest. It still was tired and worn, but there was something different about it—something lighter. His whole body appeared that way now, like he were so light he were less solid almost. Somehow, it didn’t make Raven worry and yet he still offered his hand out as an anchor of support. 

Damuron’s eyes fell on the hand offered to him and slowly, as if testingly, he placed his hand in Raven’s. For a second their hands grasped firmly, fingers weaving together to keep the other close. It was the last thing Raven felt before the world turned upside down.

His eyes opened suddenly and he felt a gasp leave his mouth on an inhale he didn’t recall. It took another few breaths for his mind to put things together. He was still in the tent, but this time alone. Gingerly, he sat himself up, still partially undressed, a touch damp. The rain outside had softened to a light misting and it felt a little warmer too. Raven checked his hands, the blastia at his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it would have been smart to let the others know he was okay. For now he lingered on what he witnessed. Whatever it was, it was real enough. 

He’d said all that, he might really have to hold himself to it. Normally that sort of thought would have weighed him down, but this time it felt right. Maybe it would feel good to be out of this mess he’d dropped himself into all those years ago. Adventuring around with those kids certainly seemed like a good start for him. 

That was when it hit him like a blunt edge to his stomach.

He scrambled to pick himself up and put his layers back on, fast to tuck his knife back into his belt. He wasn’t sure where his bow was, but he could find that as he went. Raven clambered out of the tent, nearly into a deep puddle a short distance out from the flap and called out Yuri’s name. 

The camp was silent. 

“Jeez, old man. It’s too early to be yelling like that,” came a familiar voice from the trees on Raven’s left. He turned toward the source and found Yuri himself, looking just fine minus a few bandages. 

A mountain of anxiety melted away out of Raven’s chest. “How am I supposed to know what hour it is?” 

Yuri made that face he always did when he was being a smartass, thumbing up at the sky. Raven’s gaze inevitably wandered up, seeing just a hint of sun starting to peer through the clouds and forest but not very much. 

“Check for yourself.” 

Raven gave him a tired look. “I coulda died and this is how you tell me hello.” 

“I don’t see a ghost. And I won’t next time. Assuming there’s even a next time. You know Rita’s gonna give you a hell of a lecture.” 

It wasn’t the first thing he wanted to consider or even the last. “I know, I know. She’ll tear me a new one.” 

It took Raven a second to notice, but Yuri grinned and stepped closer to Raven’s side. Gently, he put one hand on the old man’s shoulder, the touch light yet sure—reassuring in a way. 

“Thanks for the save back there. I owe you one,” Yuri said in a lowered voice, taking up that more serious tone he didn’t use as often. The honesty in it felt rooted in this spot and this moment. 

Despite the seriousness of it, Raven felt a little flutter. He gave the young man a smile, an earnest one for once. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both alright, that’s all that matters.” 

Yuri smiled back at him. “Always.” 

A pause let the roots sink deeply into the earth there. 

It was just enough time for Yuri give him a troublesome grin instead, his tone more playfully. “Want to help clean up camp before any of them wake up and tell us we should be resting?” 

It was stupid. Of course they should be resting, but this was somehow the more natural answer. 

“When you put it like that I kinda have to, don’t I?” 

“You wouldn’t leave me to it all alone, would you?” 

That sealed it. Raven laughed, agreed to do it in the end, and picked himself up to follow Yuri’s lead.


End file.
